


Help! I Need Healing!

by SmolFishTaco (SolarisSun)



Category: Baldur's Gate
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Slight Canon Divergence, Slow Burn, half-elf main character, i'm planning on this being a mix of humour and angst, this is the first fanfic ive written in 4 years oh lord, um blood related stuff i guess because vampires, what do you do when your party doesn't have anyone capable of healing spells
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:53:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28039473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolarisSun/pseuds/SmolFishTaco
Summary: The last thing Sylhana expected was to wake up on a crashing mindflayer ship. Nor did she expect to land in the middle of barren wildernes with a ticking time bomb wriggling in her head. However, things rarely go according to plan. Join Sylhana as she ventures through Faerun along Astarion and Gale, and watch as their best laid plans are led astray. With naught a healer between them, and the cost of potions oh so high, what will the group resort to on their adventures as they try to stay alive?This fanfic is based on the idea I had of imagining what it would be like adventuring with a smaller party than canon, and adding to the chaos by making it so the party doesn't find Shadowheart (until potentially much later). I also wanted to explore a more stealth oriented adventure as Sylhana is a warlock, Gale a wizard, and Astarion a rogue. None of those make for great front-line fighters.As for relationships this will definitely be a slow burn between Astarion and Sylhana!I hope you enjoy. I haven't written fanfiction in years, but feedback is always welcome and appreciated!!
Relationships: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Character(s), Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s), Astarion/Female Charname (Baldur's Gate)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 23





	Help! I Need Healing!

**Author's Note:**

> "This man truly was a spectacle. One moment he was playing the helpless noble fool, the next he was threatening to kill her, and now, he was offering her his hand, playing at the gallant gentleman. "

Chapter One

Smoke, acrid and thick filled Sylhana’s lungs as she struggled to move through the burning wreckage of the Nautiloid ship. With heavy footsteps, the ground beneath her squelched, thick with fluid only the gods could know. Coughing and stumbling, she was hardly in the frame of mind to consider how mindflayers seemed to mold flesh to their will.

 _“Come on, come on,”_ she thought frantically, _“you’ve got to get out of here!”_

As she trudged onwards, the smoke lessened, and she could see the white shimmer of… _sand?_ She certainly wasn’t in Baldur’s Gate anymore but, hope filled her regardless. Anywhere was better than on that alien ship tearing through the Hells.

Sweat ran down her brow in beads.

 _“If I live through this, I promise I won’t be such a disobedient child,_ ” she pleaded with her patron desperately.

A cold shiver ran through her.

Her patron rarely spoke. If this was a sign that they were attending to her plea, or expressing displeasure at her weakness, she couldn’t say for sure.

Somehow though, she made it.

The fresh ocean air filled her lungs, and she gasped, taking it in. She fell to her knees shaking.

It took a moments before she could compose herself again. Steadily, she stood up once more, wiping the sand off her breeches. Turning back, she gazed wide-eyed at the Nautiloid wreck. Seeing the mangled tentacles, membranes and metal, Sylhana’s hopes for the githyanki and poor girl trapped in the pod weren’t high. Turning forward, her gaze settled on the bodies of unlucky fisher-folk who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

She let out a low whistle.

“Damn,” she said, wincing at the carnage.

Sylhana felt a twinge of guilt as she stepped over the bodies that lay in her wake. At the very least, she hoped it was a quick end. Here one moment, and then blissfully gone the next. However, she had more important matters, unfortunately, than to contemplate the dead. She needed to get as far away from that damned ship as possible. More importantly, she needed to see a healer to get the parasite in her brain out as soon as possible.

If what the githyanki, Lae’zel, said had any truth to it, she needed to act quickly.

Her path led her to an old stone tower carved in the cliff face by the sea. She walked up the stone steps, carefully examining the old wooden door. It was old, yet despite the weather-beaten cracks in the wood, it held firm against her touch. How many centuries had this old tower stood? She moved to open the door, but it held fast. Pursing her lips in disappointment, she shook her head and sighed. Figured that it would be locked, and despite their being a rather obvious keyhole, she had no lockpicks to try her luck. Not that if she had them she would be much good.

How many years had passed already since coming out of the gutters of Baldur’s Gate? Nine, maybe ten? That was a skill she had long left behind.

Suddenly a burning pain ripped through her shoulder and a cry burst from her lips. She fell to the ground, her head hitting the door with a sickening _thwack_. A cool, wet tendril brushed the tip of her ear.

“Get off of me!” she screeched.

Shaking her shoulders violently, she tried to thrust the creature that had sunk its talons into her away.

She felt the pressure on her back disappear and rolled quickly to face her assailant. A pulsating brain reeled in… _anticipation_ of all things? Her head throbbed as she was taken by a flurry of images. The creature devouring her mind, and the unadulterated joy from feeding.

“Oh no,” she breathed.

The creature sprang once more, talons outstretched. Sylhana raised her hands, a dark blue light emanating from them. Her fingers grew cold. She narrowed her eyes.

“Not today!” she roared as a blast of blue light shot forth.

The creature screamed, and her mind throbbed as she felt its fear. Gritting her teeth, she stood and leaped forward, unsheathing her dagger. Blood sprayed as she sank the blade deep within the brain. As its life ebbed away, the painful throb in her mind did as well. A small relief.

She regarded the monster coldly before kicking it away.

The tower at least from this end wasn’t going to offer any help. And the longer she stayed, the more likely she was to be attacked by those _things_.

Sheathing her blade, she walked on. This time with her wits about her. She didn’t think she could survive another surprise.

Her caution was rewarded as she spotted a few more of the disgusting brains. Summoning her magic, she dispatched them as well as she could. At least fighting them head on gave her a slight advantage, and with her shoulder becoming dark with blood, she needed every advantage she could get.

It was as she was walking up a grassy hill, cursing the alchemists of Faerun for not putting potions in sturdier stuff than glass, that she heard a voice calling out.

“You there!” An elvish man with silver white hair and piercing red eyes demanded. “Hurry, I’ve got one of those brain things cornered.” As she stood there deciding what to make of this odd, but princely man, he glared at her impatiently. “Well, you _can_ kill it can’t you? Like you did the others?”

Sylhana met his eyes. “I mean, I can.” She took a step in the tall grass. She was mildly annoyed at the man. Something about his tone. But, judging from his clothes he looked like a noble. It was best to just go along with it. After all, if working as an artisan had taught her anything, it was to not piss them off.

Squinting, she tried to spot the creature the noble had mentioned.

“I don’t quite see what you-“

She was cut off by a strong arm grasping her, and a blade being pushed to her throat. As she hit the ground, she let out a small grunt. Her eye darted to the blade, then to the face of her attacker.

“Shh. Not a sound. Not if you want to keep that darling neck of yours,” he growled, pressing the blade against her skin, his breath cool against her ear. “Now, I saw you on the ship, didn’t I?”

Her mind racing, all Sylhana could think to do was nod.

“Ah! You’re in league with them aren’t you!” He continued, his voice rising at his apparent discovery. “Those tentacled – _argh!_ “

Pain seared through her skull, and she felt the blade drop from her neck as her attacker cried out. Visions of dark cobblestone streets filled her mind. Hunting an unseen prey through the night. She saw dark baleful eyes. And then the worm, fear and light.

And then it was over. Just as soon as it came.

Lying on the ground, clutching her head, she breathed, trying to steady herself.

“You’re not one of them. They took you, just the same as me.”

The voice pulled her to her sense, and she tensed, realizing that she was still very near to the man who was trying to kill her. She instinctively rolled away, taking advantage of whatever had happened to cause him to drop his blade and release his grip.

She was about to reach for her blade when he reached out his hand to her. Sylhana eyed his hand cautiously. “Apologies,” he said with a carefree smile. “And to think I was ready to decorate the ground with your innards!”

This man truly was a spectacle. One moment he was playing the helpless noble fool, the next he was threatening to kill her, and now, he was offering her his hand, playing at the gallant gentleman.

“Well, are you going to take it, or not?” his voice soured.

Nodding slightly, Sylhana reached for his hand. It was cold and smooth to the touch. Smiling wryly, he pulled her to her feet.

“Now there, that’s better than sitting in the mud, isn’t it?” he laughed, letting her hand go.

She absently clasped her hand to her chest. “I suppose so,” she answered with an awkward smile.

“Anyway, my name’s Astarion. I was in Baldur’s Gate when those beasts snatched me,” he carried on. “You will forgive me for our near mishap, won’t you? Given the circumstances, you have to reason where I was coming from.”

She tried to picture herself in his position. Honestly, she wasn’t entirely sure how she would have reacted. If it were her, she may have waited until she had gotten a bit more information before jumping someone with a blade. But, maybe she would have been suspicious seeing someone walking free on a mindflayer’s ship.

“Perhaps, I would have,” she said shrugging.

This brought a smile to Astarion’s face. “Ah, a kindred spirit. _Heartwarming_.”

The way his voice carried thick honeyed sarcasm as he said ‘heartwarming’ made her smile despite herself. She was tired, and the pain in her shoulder was beginning to gnaw at her, but this man was undeniably charming. Even if he did hold her at knife point.

“If we’re on introductions, my name is Sylhana. I’m from Baldur’s Gate as well.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Really? We certainly run in different circles then.”

She nodded. That was obvious just looking at his ornately embroidered doublet. As a guild artisan, she made a decent living, but there was a level of wealth only nobles could achieve.

Her train of thought was interrupted by the pain growing in her shoulder. She took a sharp breath and reached to touch it. Applying some pressure to the wound offered some relief, but she knew she would have to look at it soon. The sooner the better.

Pulling her hand away, she balked as she saw her palm stained red with blood. She was about to reach down and wipe the blood on the side of her robe, when Astarion grabbed her wrist.

She glanced up at him, eyes narrowed in confusion.

His deep red eyes focused intently on the blood on her hand, and he bit his lip before scowling.

“Those bastard brain things,” he muttered angrily, before letting her hand go again.

“It’s my fault I got that nasty gash,” Sylhana sighed. “Serves me right for being absent-minded.”

Astarion crossed his arms, unimpressed.

“Anyway, I was hoping to make camp soon, and maybe try and find other survivors along the way. We might be better helping each other while we deal with this parasite problem?” she said hoping to change the subject from her wound.

He touched his fingers to his lips and closed his eyes in thought. A small laugh escaped his lips and he shrugged. “You know what, I’m not normally one to take travelling companions, but why not. With what we’re up against, it might do us both well.”

“Glad we’re on the same page then,” she said, forcing a smile despite her wound.

With that, the two were off, wandering the coastal wilderness. Her shoulder still throbbed, and every so often she caught Astarion looking back at her. She couldn’t tell for certain if his expression was concern. His mouth was drawn into a thin line, but his eyes were dark. They talked about the state of their condition. Astarion asking her if she had any knowledge at all. He was none pleased when she told him that the parasite in their heads would eventually turn them into mindflayers. Things went silent for a time after that.

“You don’t happen to have a potion on you by any chance?” she asked, breaking the silence. Her voice shook despite trying to hide the fact that walking uphill had winded her. It was the damn blood loss. It was starting to make her feel lightheaded.

“Afraid not,” he sighed.

Sylhana wasn’t sure if she believed him, but then again, why would a noble be in need of a potion?

It was just then as she could feel her legs begin to shake, that the rocky mountain face glowed a brilliant purple. She shielded her eyes from the blinding light. As the light dissipated, she could make out the figure of a man wearing dark purple robes and a mane of brown hair.

“You’re alive!” the man said approaching her, “Although, I can see you’re certainly worse for wear.”

“Alive?” Sylhana answered, “Where did you last see me? The ship?”

The man rubbed the back of his head and laughed, “Yes, that would be the time and the place.” His features darkened, as he looked to her wound. “It seems we have more pressing matters to attend to first, however.”

Sylhana laughed, “Oh this, I’m fine. Just a flesh wound.”

He looked at her skeptically. “I suppose you’re running around like this because none of you are very adept healers?”

At that comment, she heard Astarion scoff behind her. “I can’t speak for Astarion, but no, my magic isn’t very well suited to healing,” she said, wincing.

The man glanced at Astarion.

“Oh please, what good would running around with someone bleeding out do me. I can assure you, as much as it pains me to admit, the healing arts are not my strong suit.”

Sighing the man ruffled around in the bag hanging by his leather belt.

“Here, I don’t have many, but at the very least if you drink this the bleeding will stop.”

He handed her a small healing potion. Her eyes widened at the act of kindness.

“Unfortunately, my magics aren’t very well versed in the art of healing as well.”

“That’s fine, really,” she said taking the potion in her hands. “Thank you,” she paused realizing she didn’t know the man’s name.

“Gale,” he answered. “Now drink up, we can have time for pleasantries when you’re not painting the ground red with your own blood.”

Sylhana did as she was told and felt the healing warmth course through her system. Her shoulder still hurt, but just as Gale said, the bleeding had indeed stopped.

She pocketed the empty bottle before looking back up at him.

“Thank you. I’m right as rain now.” Remembering the parasite wriggling in her brain, however, she quickly amended that. “Well, as right as I can be considered the, you know,” she said, lifting her finger and making a wriggling motion.

“Ah, yes,” Gale sighed, “ _that_.” His features tightened as he continued. “You are aware of ceramorphosis then, I presume. Turning into a fleshy, disgusting – “

“Mindflayer,” Sylhana finished. “Yes, we’re both aware.”

“Then you know time is of the essence to find a healer, and a damn good one.”

She nodded. “If we’re of the same mind, we might have more luck finding one together.”

“I can’t say I know many people afflicted with the same problem,” Gale laughed, “I’ll tag along.”

He took a step forward, pushing past her. “Although, it would be nice to know all the names of my new travelling companions.”

Sylhana felt her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. “Right, I-I’m sorry about that.” She said, awkwardly running her fingers through the light brown strands of her ponytail. “I’m Sylhana.”

“Excellent!” Gale answered, smiling.

She turned and looked towards Astarion. She couldn’t read his expression. He didn’t seem entirely pleased or displeased with the new addition to their group. After all, they had agreed to search for others.

“Shall we look for a spot to make camp?” Sylhana asked. “I don’t know about you, but I could use some rest.”

The sun was beginning to set, casting the land in a pale pink hue.

Gale looked towards the sky pensively. “Hmm, well, we haven’t exhibited any of the tell-tale signs of turning yet. So, I suppose that we have time to rest.” Shrugging he added, “Besides the point, I have no elven ancestry like the two of you. I can’t say I would be much use bumbling in the dark.”

She nodded. “Alright then.” She turned to Astarion. “Does that sound good to you too?”

“I don’t think I see much of an alternative. You both will need sleep at some point,” he answered.

For a moment she thought she saw a flash of insecurity cross his features. Like he realized a misstep he had made, although she couldn’t see what it possibly could be.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone, thanks so much for reading!! I really appreciate it, and I hope you enjoyed it.  
> Definitely a bit of a slow start, but I'm hoping to pick things up in the coming chapters.


End file.
